Recollection
by Skywolf24
Summary: Bruce lifts up the cowl and remembers a old life when he wore the mask, as his embraces his new legacy in his arms.


**Recollection  
**

* * *

Bruce Wayne stands in the greyness of the light, half absorbed and half restless. The shadows of his childhood dread still veil over him as masterpiece of darkness and light etched over his smooth curvatures. His dark hazel eyes gleam with fiery determination as he stands in front of his armory, a solider waiting to arrive to the battlefront.

His black shirt peels off his scars muscles, graven chest glistens with arising sweat pouring out of his slender body. He turns slowly around to face the bat, the suit is mounted against the metal of the closet, gadgets are placed in different compartments and drawers. He reaches out a hand and rests his palm on the armored shoulder, graphite texture molded into a sleek protective coating.

He settles a hooded gaze at the hollow mask, the face of the Batman. He swallows down his inner aggression, feeling the beast inside erupt within him, his chest burns. blood flows and heart pumps his strength for the night. He knows their will be confrontation between good and evil. He knows there might a sliver of a chance to make out away, maybe with a few bullets in this mid-section plates. He is thankful that Lucius Fox considered his violent nights as an inspiration instead of an extermination.

The mask lifts off the bracers holding it against the suit, he narrows his eyes down, looking into the abyss hidden beneath the graphite shell, there is a chance he will become a full beast that is tugging at his weary soul tonight, face the impossible choices, and enter into a realm of chaos and menace.

_Your compassion is a weakness your enemies will not share._

The malicious words of his old deceptive mentor chime in his thoughts, Bruce rubs the pads of his fingers over the curvatures of the cowl, feeling it's hidden power become alive inside him.

He drops the cowl at his side, against his wounded leg and feels the bones throb against tensed muscle.

_I will standing right where I belong. Between you and the people of Gotham._

His own words, when he was younger, vigilante and became granted with power haunt inside his torn body, he feels the need and the desire to enter the darkness once more and protect the lives he made a vow to save when he first took the night into his own hands.

Power always has a price, he underestimated is own power when facing the uncompromising devil in white makeup. He allowed chance to guide him on the wrong path, making him fail to save the woman he loved, Rachel Dawes and falling deeper into the abyss.

_To them you're just a freak. Like me!_

Hearing those shuddering words, Bruce feels his body crash to the floor, his on his hands and knees, the cowl is facing him. "I am not a monster." he growls, infuriated with his choices for the greater good of people of Gotham.

Tears of his self remorse slip from his eyes, sloping down his chiseled features, searing his skin with molten guilt. He refuses to let them brand him, instead he swipes them away with the back of his hand and reaches for the cowl.

"One more night," he promises with a deep bellow of a voice. "That's all I need."

He knows someone will open up Pandora's box in the heart of the city he loves. Arkham will breed. He knows there will be victims of bloodshed, people will die. That;s the way the city works, a spiraling chasm of dark noir and deception.

There are two things; every person in this city faces, one is logic of human error, when people are faced wit the possible decision and given the power that will make them chose poorly or wisely. Second, is fear, people embrace all the nightmares and filth of inhumane acts and allow it to control their lives.

Bruce lifts the cowl off the floor, rising it to his trained eye level, this was once a symbol many people believed in before chaos torn down the balance of justice and injustice. Ripping everything he fought for apart with just a few tricks of grim cunning trickster and broken promises of degraded hero.

_Sometimes you live long enough to see yourself become a villain._

He remembers when he made the choice in front of the lifeless body of Harvey Dent, the White Knight that people believed in while Batman became the Dark Knight of the chess board of anarchy, and got struck down, shattering into pieces with Dent because he decided to play the game of chance.

Someone helped him back up, Detective John Robin Blake, one of the key players for Bane's game of Risk. He was back in the game until another player, the elusive jewel thief cheated and made the victor Bane once again break the Dark Knight, both in spirit and in body.

_Sometimes a man rises from the darkness. Sometimes the darkness brings up something back._

Against all odds, the Dark Knight entered the game once again, and made Bane lose will he received the greatest victory, he became a hero by becoming a legend.

Bruce feels his lips curl as he settles the cowl down, "Batman will be embraced," he whispers, and looks at the mask. "But not by me anymore." He hears the sounds the familiar heels clicking on the cement flooring of the bunker as he finally tears his eyes away from the mask and settled him on his beautiful wife, she arches her back against a work bench, her dark coffee colored eyes hold a promise, an everlasting vow once she made when her heart was finally thawed out by his.

He takes a moment and stares, just stares at the beautiful creature in black velvet dress, flawless white pearls and holding a key fob with a sly grin playing across her red lips. She is always daring him and always loving him. She saunters over and helps him up to his feet, he encircles his arm around her slightly swollen waist, feels the faint pulses of his growing baby, his second child.

A girlish squeal echoes through the chamber, Bruce turns, his hazel eyes become crisp and smile loving as a little dark haired three year old collides into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and looking up at him with dazzling hazel-coffee eyes. He strokes his hand through her soft chocolate hair and smiles, he can't stop smiling.

The girl pulls away and moves to the mask, her little hands lift up the cowl as she holds in close to her chest.

"Who wears this, Daddy?" she asks, curiosity shines over her freckled cheeks.

Bruce kneels down and places his hand on her cheek, and soft looks into her eyes. "Anyone." he whispers, with a beautiful happy smile that reaches his eyes.

"Anyone, handsome?" he hears his wife purr with a point look.

"Well, almost anyone." Bruce replies playfully, looking up at his wife and then he lifts himself off the floor. He walks over to his equal partner and mother of his child, his large hand caresses over her jaw, and he looks deep into her dark eyes. "Isn't that right, Selina Kyle?"

Selina smirks, and then encloses her arms around his neck, her fingers thread in between the strands of his dark hair, and his breath ghosts over her lips. Before she tries to slip away, he frames his hands on each side of her frame and drops a loving kiss on her responds with equal softness, as his hand encircles around her belly. They are in the moment together, dancing with rhythm of their bodies, he is leading her into a waltz and she tries to take the lead but his melting kiss stops her, her hands slay over his bare chest.

Suddenly, they break apart as Bruce feels a gentle tuck on his pant leg, he looks down and see's his daughter wearing the cowl, he can't stop laughing as he scoops his little girl in his arms and slides his finger over the pointed nose.

He feels the shadow of the bat, enter his daughter, and he knows this little girl will embrace his legacy and have her own journey. But for now, he laughs and embraces his family.

Selina rubs her finger over his bottom lip as she whispers in a low voice against his chiseled jaw, "What were you doing down here anyways?"

"Just going through my old equipment and waiting for you." He kisses her gently on the side of her neck, while listening to his daughter giggle against his bare shoulder. "How did everything go today?"

Selina grins, and then narrows her eyes down at her swollen belly, she met his piercing eyes. " I guess I can give you some details," she replies, teasing him with a dangerous gleam in her eyes. " I think you better find a different mask for our daughter because...Mr, Wayne, we're having a boy."

"A boy?" Bruce's own hazel eyes light up, he places his hand securely on her belly, as he gives her one of his heart-stopping smiles and then kisses her tentatively and jovial. They part and look at their children before she interlaces her finger with his, leads him to the lift.

Bruce looks down at his mask, he decides to take it with him as the lights slowly flick off. He keeps on smiling as the words of his lifetime friend replay in his mind as his little girl gives him a kiss on the cheek and whispers with a sweet childish voice. "Love you, Daddy."

_...and we both knew that you were happy._


End file.
